by Paula Boock
‘I knew you’d be here,’ I said, hugging him close.
CHAPTER SIX
BENNY’S PRIDE AND JOY was this ancient green Bentley he drove. Don’t ask me, I know nothing about cars, but he swore it was a classic and it sure looked classy. What I liked was the running boards, so when we left the airport I made him start moving first and then jumped on. It was like being in a Katherine Hepburn movie or something.
Benny said it was too big to park in town, so he didn’t take it out very much. It smelt terrific – I love the smell of old leather. The suspension was shot, so we bounced along in the old seats killing ourselves laughing.
Benny is beautiful. I mean it – everyone says so. He is simply beautiful. His hair is black, not red like Wai’s, but just long enough to pull back into a ponytail, which he ties with various bits of coloured material. He has a strong, fine-boned face with great cheekbones, and wonderful, swimmable brown eyes.
He’s one of those people who can throw on any tacky clothes and look great. It drives me crazy. He used to wear amazing things and it was like walking around with a pop star. People would stop and stare at him f’chrissake. So he took to ‘dressing down’ when he moved to Auckland. He reckoned there were enough beautiful people there already. I often wished he wasn’t so stunning, it’s bad for men.
‘So, how’s Bob?’
‘Same as ever. Worse.’
‘Really?’ He glanced at me. He has gentle, safe eyes, Benny. In that moment I knew I was wrong about comparing Benny to the gang that had picked me up. He wasn’t like them at all. I slid along the leather seat and leaned against his side.
‘Are you working today?’ I asked him. We were lined up at some lights.
‘No, not today. We have all day together. Tomorrow and Wednesday I’m working afternoons.’
‘I thought I might go on a trip to Cape Reinga.’
‘Yeah?’ he asked. I nodded. ‘For how long?’
‘I don’t know. How long does it take?’
‘There are two, three day tours around Northland, but they’re expensive. Would you go by bus?’
I shrugged. ‘Maybe I’ll fly to Kaitaia. I have a bankcard,’ I explained, ‘compliments of Bob.’
‘Ah.’ He smiled knowingly, just like Wai. ‘Making amends, huh?’
‘Hmm.’
We were driving over the Harbour Bridge but it didn’t feel like a bridge; more like another motorway. The old Bentley was going quite fast now and Benny put on the stereo. I hung my head out the window, drumming on the panelled door in time.
I’m driving out to Piha
I’m driving out to Piha
I’m driving out to Piha-ha
With all my windows dow-hown
The city was blue and silver spider webs, synchronised spinning, fizzing through the clear sky, 10,000 metres up weaving silver aeroplanes…I turned back to Benny.
‘Do you realise how tiny we are? We’re miniature. Little pinhead people in a tonka toy car.’
‘What are you calling a tonka toy, lady? This car is a classic of its kind, whatever planet you’re on. Here, where’s your hat?’ He reached over the back and grabbed it. ‘It suits the car.’
‘That’s why I bought it of course.’
‘You bought this hat?’
He put it on and immediately looked better in it than I did. I hate that.
I had no idea where we were; it was a maze of small streets and I couldn’t see the water any longer. We pulled up in front of an old wooden two-storeyed house.
‘Come on,’ said Benny, getting out. He opened the boot with difficulty, and took out my pack. I grabbed my jacket and followed him.
The house was white and sort of skinny and tall, with a balcony outside an upstairs room. The front door was surrounded by stained glass.
‘We’re upstairs,’ said Benny, as we came into an entrance hall. I followed him up the stairs and he unlocked the door at the top. Benny’s flat.
Another enormous hall. It had wood panelling and faded heavy red wallpaper. They had a red telephone box.
‘Does the phone go?’
‘Yup. Should have seen us getting the thing up here. This is the living room.’
It was at the front of the house with a bay window and big wooden fireplace. The furniture was scruffy but comfortable looking.
‘Whose piano?’
‘Rochelle’s. She’s a music student.’
On the other side of the hall were bedrooms and at the back I saw the door open to a big kitchen. Benny had taken my pack through to the other front room, the one with the balcony.
‘This is my room. Isn’t it great?’ I thought of Bob and his ‘This is the BEDROOM!’ But Bob was all chrome and shagpile. Benny’s room was like Benny – beautiful.
He had painted it a sort of pale rusty colour, like one of those terracotta pots, and edged it in a deep green. It had a fireplace too, with these crazy old fashioned tiles. The floor was covered in rugs and there was a single door leading onto the balcony. In one corner was a light table and long bench with designs and folders laid neatly in piles. There was stuff all over the walls, including blown-up photographs of people. There was a big one of Wai and me at the beach. In the other corner was a batik covered double bed.
‘Welcome,’ said Benny, taking off my hat and placing it beside him. I sat down on the bed and he kissed me.
Benny’s a good kisser, sort of gentle and interested. I mean, he doesn’t stick his tongue down your throat – I hate that – but he isn’t boring.
Right at that moment I wasn’t into serious kissing. Benny however was, so I went along with it for a while. Then suddenly we were lying on the bed, not sitting (there’s a big difference), and he was undoing my shirt.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Do you mind?’
‘Well, it’s just –’
‘Oh come on, Mel, I haven’t seen you for ages.’ Now this I had to admit was true, and it was also true that I was kind of enjoying it, just a bit surprised. I don’t like to be a prude, but I wasn’t too keen on this touchy-feely stuff before lunch. Still, what the hell.
I usually like the feel of Benny’s prickly face, but he was rougher than usual and scraping my neck. It was getting sore. He almost had my shirt right off and was pushing his body hard against me, f’godsake. I suddenly thought about Bob and the bimbo and my stomach sort of curled up and flipped over. He was undoing my jeans and had his leg between mine.
‘Benny!’ I wanted to see his face, but he’d buried it in my shoulder.
‘What?’ He didn’t lift his head. If he’d lifted his head it might have been all right.
‘Stop it. I don’t like it.’
‘Why?’ He wasn’t stopping.
‘Cos I don’t, all right?’ I tried to push him off but he was too heavy. ‘Benny! Benny, f’chrissake take your hand out of there!’
He sat up. ‘All right, all right. What’s the matter?’
‘I don’t want this, that’s what’s the matter. And you didn’t stop when I told you to.’
‘I did too.’
‘You did not.’ I got off the bed and was trying to do up my clothes but my hands were shaking.
‘I didn’t realise you meant it.’
‘Don’t give me that bullshit. I don’t play games.’
‘All right, Mel, I’m sorry. Really. I thought you’d come up here because…’
‘Because what?’ He was really pissing me off.
‘Well, you know. I thought you’d decided…’
‘Look Benny, if you can’t say the word “sex”, then do you think you should be doing it?’ Huh.
He looked at me, his mouth half open, not knowing what to say. What a jerk. Finally I’d got my shirt done up.
‘All I have to say is this.’ I snatched up my hat from beside him on the bed. It was squashed. ‘If you think I came all this way to leap into the pit with you, then I might as well catch the next plane back. And if your idea of our making love for the first
time is with my Doc Martens still on, then – then you’d better look for another girlfriend.’ Stef would be proud of me. I hoped he couldn’t tell I was still shaking.
‘I don’t want another girlfriend.’ His face had caved in like my hat. ‘It was a mistake, Mel. I didn’t think that was the only reason you’d come to Auckland. I just thought that now you had…’
‘What? What?’
‘Oh, I can’t explain. But, well – you are seventeen.’
‘What the hell’s that got to do with it?’
‘Well, you’re not a kid anymore.’
‘Christ, what a cliché. Look, Benny, read my lips. I don’t want to have sex with you. End of story.’
He was silent. I looked away from him, at the photo of Wai and me. It was taken last summer at Aramoana. It was the day Benny had first kissed me. I wondered if that was why he’d put it up. It wasn’t a very good photo of me.
‘I’d better set up the couch, then.’ He stood up and walked to the door.
‘Who for?’
‘You!’
Some gentleman, I thought. ‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Should I leave my stuff in here?’
‘Yeah.’ He turned and came over to me. ‘Look Mel, I am sorry. I went about it all wrong.’ He looked at the ground. ‘I didn’t know how to ask you. I’m still really happy you’re here.’
I sighed. I hate sighing.
‘Okay Benny. So am I. I’ll try and forget it.’ He looked so relieved. ‘Hey – have you got any food in this house?’
‘Heaps!’ He has such a big crazy smile that I forgave him instantly. We went to the kitchen and attacked the fridge.
* * *
Abby and Rochelle came home later in the afternoon. I liked Abby immediately. She wears wacky clothes but still looks sort of old-fashioned and plain. She talks a lot too – ‘Are you here for long? I like your boots. You’re short like me, that’s good. Are you coming to The Fridge?’ (That was the name of the nightclub.) ‘Good one! Hey, do you want to borrow some clothes? I’ve got lots, it’s my favourite hobby, Rochelle’s always stealing them. Isn’t your hair lovely? Hasn’t she got lovely hair, Benny…’ She prodded and poked and patted me while she was talking and Benny just grinned at me. ‘We call her “Dear Abby”,’ he told me later, ‘cos she’s always helping people and picks up every lame duck around.’
Rochelle, on the other hand, was cool. In both senses. She wore classy clothes and was tall, Maori and very elegant. She had this husky voice that reminded me of Wai, but she moved slowly and carefully. When we met she said, ‘Hiii…’ and faded off somewhere. Benny said, ‘She’s always a bit weird before a gig.’ So, she was in the band, too.
We had an early dinner. Benny didn’t eat much and Rochelle didn’t even come in. Abby talked most of the way through it about ‘Work’ which she always rolled her eyes after saying. She was a social worker and this was the first night for two weeks that she wasn’t on call. She got really excited when she heard I was going up north. ‘Cape Reinga’s wonderful, it’s amaaazing, what time do you leave? Seven! Really? You’re flying to Kaitaia? Well, you can sleep on the plane I suppose…’
I’d booked it earlier in the afternoon and was leaving tomorrow morning for two days.
After dinner Abby dragged me off to dress me. Her room was sort of ‘exotic floral’ in purple and pinks and she had heaps of clothes. I stood in front of her long mirror and she put things up against me.
‘No, pink’s not for you, how about navy? Ugh. Nope, not you either. You probably suit those sludgy sort of colours. Hang on, Rochelle’s got just the thing…’ She bounced out the door. I didn’t want to wear something of Rochelle’s. I sank down on Abby’s bed and scowled at myself in the mirror.
I’m not what you’d call pretty. I’m very short and stick my chin out in this stroppy sort of way, because I’m always looking up. Wai once said I had moody eyes but I’m not sure what she meant by that. Abby was right, I thought, my hair is my best feature. It’s usually dark, but I had hennaed it not long ago so it was quite auburn. Apart from that, the kid in the mirror was very ordinary. It didn’t seem to worry Benny, but I could never figure out why not.
Abby came bursting back in.
‘Here it is! Sludgy green, see? That’ll suit you.’
‘Doesn’t Rochelle mind?’
‘Na, she doesn’t wear it anymore, she thinks it’s a bit common.’ She laughed at my face. ‘But it’s not! That’s just Rochelle – she’s weird like that.’
That was the second time someone had said she was weird.
What the hell, I put it on and Abby jumped around me fixing my hair and trying different shoes. I did look quite snappy when she’d finished. Benny and Rochelle were in the hall, packing their gear.
‘Hey, you look great, Mel,’ said Benny.
‘Do you think so? Thanks for the dress, Rochelle. Are you sure it’s okay?’
‘Yeah, it doesn’t matter to me,’ she murmured.
Benny was busy fiddling with his guitar. As I walked away, he said, ‘Mel, could you grab me some guitar strings from my room? They’re in my top drawer.’
‘Sure.’ I went into Benny’s room.
There was piles of stuff in his drawer. I couldn’t find the guitar strings. I picked up a cardboard packet. Condoms. What in hell did that mean? Was he already sleeping with someone, or, maybe, more than one? Or were they for when I… The box was sealed. I sat down on his bed.
I was seventeen, Benny was right. Most seventeen year olds I knew had had sex, or reckoned they had. Was I being unfair to Benny? He was nineteen, after all, and we’d been together for almost a year. How long was I going to keep refusing?
And could I blame him if he was sleeping with someone else? Damn right I could, but still… I looked again at the photo of Wai and me. Wai had done it when she was fifteen. But she’d hated it. She freaked me out talking about the pain and blood – I’m a real coward with that stuff. I thought of Bob and that bimbo – it hadn’t been her first time, I bet. And despite this morning, I did feel safe with Benny. I knew he’d be good to me. If it had to happen at some stage, probably now was a good time.
I put the condoms back in the drawer and found the strings at the back. When I handed them to Benny, he said, ‘Thanks.’
I smiled.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘THE FRIDGE’ WAS AN UGLY white concrete building about ten minutes drive from Benny’s. The nightclub was in the basement and as soon as we got there Benny and Rochelle disappeared backstage to join the rest of the band and unload the gear from their van.
It was the sort of place that is so cheap and tacky that they make a thing of the décor as if it’s deliberate. The walls were concrete inside too and had a weird selection of decorations hanging on them: stuffed animals (those hideous ferret and snake combinations), far too shiny imitation brass shields, the odd (very odd) painting, including a Catholic bleeding heart and what looked like a paint-by-numbers horse head on velvet. It was as if someone had cleaned out the decorations from a typical New Zealand holiday bach and stuck them on the walls. The floor was a sort of non-colour linoleum. Abby got us some drinks while I found us a table. White formica top with tiny gold chips.
I had been a little conscious of being underage, especially since Benny, Rochelle and Abby looked so much older, but now I saw that many of the others there looked younger than I did. A lot of them were smoking, most were overdressed and some had tried to look casual, but had made the fatal mistake – they carried school packs!
Abby came back with two people she’d met – Steve and Carol. Steve was very short and tough-looking. He had a broken nose and shorn hair and looked like a miniature hit-man. But he had a wide grin and tiny sparkly eyes. I liked him immediately. Abby introduced us.
‘Hulloo.’ He was Scottish.
Carol wore bright makeup and had masses of black hair which was dyed white in patches. She was in a shiny purple dress and deeply depressed about something/someone. Abby was looking concerned an
d talking to her very seriously. So this is her ‘Dear Abby’ suit, I thought.
Steve pulled his chair over towards mine.
‘I don’t think I’m needed there. I’m not a very good counsellor.’ He met my eyes and grinned. ‘Abby says you’re from Dunedin.’
‘Yeah.’
‘I’ve only been to Auckland. What’s the South Island like?’
‘Very different. Less tropical, colder in the main.’ I tested his reaction defensively. He didn’t seem put off. ‘Much prettier too,’ I added. ‘Well, pretty’s not the word really. It’s wilder – masses of bush and mountains and lakes, as well as the farmland and beaches.’
‘Sounds beautiful.’ I hate the way most New Zealanders say ‘bewdifil’ as quickly as they can. This guy said ‘bootifool’ and I smiled.
‘It is. You’ll have to see it for yourself. Where are you from?’
‘Edinburgh.’
‘Oh. Well, do you know about Dunedin?’
He shook his head in time with a giant twang from the stage. The band were tuning.
‘You should. Dunedin is the old Gaelic name for Edinburgh.’
His eyes widened. ‘Aye, right! I had heard about that. I’d like to go there.’ He smiled. He had very little, straight teeth like a boy’s. ‘You know, I may not have the Gaelic, but I’ve been alearning a few Maori words.’ He straightened in his chair.
‘Och, aye?’ I joked.
‘Aye!’ he laughed back at me. ‘Now, hang on, what were they? That’s right.’ He looked high up on his right and pronounced, carefully, ‘Aotearoa … Haere mai … Tena koe, Tena korua, Tena koutou. How’s that then?’
‘Bootifool.’ Actually his Scottish accent made him better at it than most pakehas. ‘Now all you need to learn is please and thank you.’
He covered his mouth in mock-horror. ‘I don’t know those!’
‘Neither did your ancestors.’
A blast on the drums made both of us jump and the band began playing their first number. The drummer was a big tall guy with blonde hair and was too loud and not very good. Then, I always think the drums are too loud, probably because I notice them more. I was itching to get up there myself. I saw Benny scanning the crowd, peering against the lights. He paused at our table, frowning and I gave him a wave as Rochelle began to sing in a light, cruisy voice. She was good. Benny smiled and winked in a cool way although he couldn’t possibly see my face.